Sources about Salazar Slytherin
by Marvelgeek42
Summary: People who have met Salazar Slytherin view him differently that those who did not, because History got quite a few things wrong about the man. The most pressing one out of all of them being his blood status.
1. Sources about Salazar Slytherin

**Written for the** ** _All Saints and All Souls Day_** **event at** ** _The Golden Snitch_** **. I have no idea how this happened.**

 **Words: 907**

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 _Taken from Godric Gryffindor's Tales of Valour by Agenor Gryffindor in 997. Page 23._

My dear father always told me the story of the initial meeting between him and Salazar.

My father had just been knighted—he was no longer a boy—and he was riding through the countryside to tell the news to his parents, brothers, and sisters when a boy suddenly appeared in front of him with a loud pop. [1]

The boy was bloodied, beaten and looked like he had not eaten much in a while, despite there being a good harvest that year. He only mouthed two words that would never leave Godric Gryffindor's brain, so hopeless and defeated did they sound. "Help…please…."

That boy was indeed Salazar Slytherin.

My father took him on his horse and galloped to the nearest physician [2].

Luckily, he survived—if only barely and with permanent scars that served as a constant reminder as to what happened—and my father quickly saw him as another younger brother [3].

[1] Some of you may recognize that as the signs of an apparition and this was indeed the first successful one to my knowledge.

[2] I have chosen not to include the details of that visit for what I presume to be understandable reasons.

[3] My father's last words were: "I will finally see Salazar again now. Get a chance to apologize for all the things I said and did to him over the years." Of course it took him longer to speak them.

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 _Taken from Rowena Ravenclaw's Personal Diary released by Agatha Ravenclaw in 999. Page 324_

Salazar Slytherin was not the man I am sure the history books will later claim he was.

He was not a cruel man. He may have seemed a bit stoic, but his family and closest friends—Godric, Helga, Merlin, and I—will tell you that it was simply a mask to protect himself from further horrors. And those who knew him well enough to be aware of that saw no reason for him to change it, even if many of them hoped he would do so one day—dear Helga in particular.

He has—had been through and seen more than enough. _Several unrecognizable words that were blurred by—presumably—tears_ deserved.  
Salazar was not a man for needless hate. He did not blindly hate muggles—and most certainly not muggleborns. He fought tooth and nail for them to be united, for their community to include everyone to protect themselves. He always said that we need to be as many as possible to protect ourselves. [...]

I will miss him for the rest of my life, however long it may be.

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 _Taken from Parseltongue at home by Ethel Slytherin in 1001. Page 147_

My husband took pride in his work and his abilities. Ever since that day—the worst day in his life, dare I say—he had worked towards a single goal:

Preventing as many children as possible from feeling his pain.

Our oldest son, Bjorn, seems to believe that ambition is the key to everything and that he will one day avenge many of his ancestors.

Both Salazar and I needed to remind him that a pure heart is just as—if not more—important as avenging the ancestors, but Bjorn has yet to grasp the concept. He believes us to be better than the nonmagicals, the muggles, and that our positions should be reversed.

I worry for him and pray that his mind will change and I pray that the soul of my wonderful husband will lead him the way.

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 _Taken from My conversations with Helga Hufflepuff by Siobhan the Wise in 1004. Page 76_

"Poor Salazar seems to never quite stop suffering," she would often say as we walked through the halls of the newly built castle. I would always inquire what had happened.

The answers varied between a considerable amount of topics, ranging from remembering the painful and undoubtedly horrifying events that he had seen—such as his parents and siblings being captured by muggles and only barely escaping the fire himself—to the latest illness of one of his children.

One of the lot always seemed to be at least mildly ill and this must have put such a strain on the minds of him and his poor wife, Ethel. Almost permanently having a child ill—and thus too close to death—will do that to a parent.

Three children had already been taken from the family by the time of his early death that left many grieving.

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 _Taken from Merlin's archieves released by unknown, roughly 1207. Page 1268_

There has always been some speculation as to who had the idea to form a school, to build Hogwarts.

Rowena has been suspected due to her desire and enthusiasm to spread knowledge.

Godric has been suspected due to his bravery to search for young children in full knowledge that his life would be in great danger.

Helga, too, has been suspected, if only because of her constant worry over others and the will to help.

Salazar is the only founder that is not usually suspected, though I cannot fathom a single convincing reason why.

It had been Salazar's idea all along.

He had tried to convince the others for years and his most adamant argument was—and would forever be—that his family did not know how to properly use their powers when they were found out while the family of Gryffindor knew their wandwork and had not lost a single member to the muggles in generations.

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 **Please tell me what you think!**

 **~Marvelgeek42**


	2. something that I can't confess

**For the _Psychology_ class at _Hogwarts._ Task #1: Write about a character who does not act their age, even when they have to. Alternatively, write about a character who had to grow up too early.**

 **Word Count: 659**

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 _ **something that I can't confess**_

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Salazar Slytherin always knew he was different from his brothers and sisters. He might only be five years old, but wasn't dumb. He had weirdly good luck that bordered on the impossible more than occasionally.

He knew he was different and he knew that it would not end well for him if anyone ever found out. He had seen it happen to other people.

They would be burned at a stake. Accused of selling their soul to the devil.

Salazar had not done anything like that. He had had—dare he even think it—magic for as long as he could remember. No one else he knew could do similar things or if they could, they kept it secret.

Just like he did it himself. He had gotten quite good at using it only when he was alone—it was too useful not to use it at all—and pretending that anything else but magic was responsible. Any of his siblings or a kind stranger helping him with a task he had done too quickly, for example, was a common excuse he used.

Salazar planned to do the same thing today, but something crossed his plans.

It was a small garden snake.

Now, he had seen his parents and older siblings kill these small beasts many times before, but somehow he could never summon the courage to do the same. He always heard a scream or a plea for mercy when he tried to do.

At first he had thought that it was just his imagination, but the repeated occurrence of it hinted at another thing and it was time to test the theory.

Salazar quickly looked around to check if there was anything within hearing range.

"Uh, hello," he whispered once he was sure he and the snake were alone.

"Hello small human," the snake replied.

They had a nice conversation and from that day onward the two of them would meet as often as they could. They actually became friends.

Until the day when everything changed.

It was roughly a year later. Salazar had not paid enough attention and his father had followed him.

Once the man had realised that his son was talking to a snake, he snapped.

Yelling about the devil's work, he swiftly beheaded the snake with a rusty knife before dragging Salazar to the nearby river.

"It must be done," he said. "Magic is the devil's work and I cannot let you infect any of my children with these demonic rituals!"

"Father, no, please," Salazar begged and pleaded, but it did nothing to change his father's mind.

"You are not my son. You never were," his father replied. No emotion was traceable on his face as he held his son's head underwater until he stopped struggling.

He left without a glance back.

Maybe he should have done so, because Salazar survived. Maybe it was a good thing the man didn't.

The young boy climbed out of the river, coughing and wheezing, but relatively unharmed.

Not knowing what else to do, he moved back towards his village only to discover his mother being burned at a stake.

Salazar was a smart boy. He realised that his mother had been burned because of him.

Horrified, he turned around and ran as far away as he could.

After surviving alone in the woods for the better part of a year, he was discovered by a group of bandits.

Once they realised he could do magic, because he had defended himself when they had threatened his life, they almost beat him to death.

With a last effort, Salazar fled. He did not know how he had done it, but from one moment to the next he was lying in front of a horse carrying a man clad in red and gold.

"Help...please," Salazar begged, not really believing he would really get anything even remotely like his request.

He had not seen kindness in over a year, so why should he now?


	3. intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame

**For the** ** _Grand Battle_** **event at** ** _Diagon Alley II_** **and the** ** _Study of Languages_** **class at** ** _Hogwarts._**

 **Prompts:** **Knight,** **Walter ('The Blood Baron'), "Where's my shield? I need something to hide my eyes from the sight of his face!", OC: Godric Gryffindor's wife, (spell) Aberto, Sun; Rowena Ravenclaw/Walter, moon, feast;** **Write about someone who's unfairly being deemed untrustworthy.**

 **Words: 1,153**

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 ** _intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame_**

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Salazar Slytherin's life didn't get easier once Sir Gryffindor—Godric—had more or less stumbled across him.

Yes, he now had a more reliable source of food and drink than before and a roof over his head—both of which was quite nice, really—but apart from that, not much had changed.

He was still looked down upon for his less than noble ancestry.

 _(nothing more than a peasant)_

He was still plagued by nightmares of his mother's screams.

 _(her screams as she burned would never leave his mind)_

He was still alone where it truly counted.

 _(if you trust no one, you cannot be betrayed)_

Salazar was well aware that Godric—the closest thing he had to a friend—was doing his very best to change that particular fact.

The knight was alone in that quest, even working against a few members of the Gryffindor family.

Sir Walter Gryffindor—the eldest brother of the family, the one who would inherit the title and everything that came with it—had made snide comments about Salazar.

 _(the man's wife, Rowena, was so much nicer. Which might be part of the reason why she refused to acknowledge her marriage whenever possible.)_

One time, when the young boy was just about to enter the room he had been assigned, Sir Walter came around the corner and held his arm before his eyes.

"Where's my shield?" He exclaimed. "I need something to hide my eyes from the sight of his face!" Then, the knight started laughing as Salazar locked himself into his room.

He didn't leave the room for a week.

 _(it hadn't been the first comment that day and that was the most harmless one by far)_

They tried to unlock the door, but none of the spells they were familiar with was able to beat Salazar's instinctive magic.

 _(he heard them arguing before his door, he knew that they didn't trust him)_

It was only when Alexandrina—Godric's fiance whose parents had come all the way from Portugal—arrived in the manor.

Alexandrina was quite a nice and gentle woman who, at the same time, wouldn't lean back and accept just anything—from what Salazar had gathered through the door—and more than one of the Gryffindor sibling's had expressed hope that their marriages would be equally well-matched.

 _(he later found out that one of the girls—Ethel—had looked longingly towards the door Salazar was hiding behind, only to be forcefully dragged away)_

Alexandrina—once caught up to the situation by Godric—came to Salazar's door a few hours past midday on the seventh day. She knocked twice, but Salazar didn't react.

 _(he had learned not to move in his time alone in the woods)_

"Please open the door, menino," she whispered. Her accent wasn't as strong as Salazar had expected it to be, but then again, it were her parents that had taken the journey.

She was there for until the sun came down, begging him to give in and open the door.

"Abra a porta, menino," Alexandrina cried, resorting to her mother tongue in frustration. "Por favor, abra! Você vai morrer de fome! Por favor! Aberto!"

Salazar was able to feel the magic that came with the last word through the door. The door that was now open.

 _(they tested, the word worked every time, no matter who said it)_

Admitting defeat, Salazar stood up and crossed the room.

Alexandrina swore—he assumed—in Portuguese before dragging him off to the kitchens.

 _(he spotted Godric following them)_

"You really haven't eaten anything this past week? How can someone so intelligent be so stupid?"

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One night, around three months later—the wedding had long since passed—Salazar stood outside, watching the full moon and letting its light touch his face.

 _(sometimes, he missed the forest. It was quiet and peaceful)_

There was a feast inside—Salazar had missed the reason for it, if there even was one—but he didn't really fancy participating.

 _(he received enough glares as it was)_

He had always enjoyed the time he spent alone, that hadn't changed despite the things he had gone through.

 _(sometimes, it was nice to have no one intrude in his thoughts. He didn't fit in either way)_

However, he wasn't alone for long.

Alexandrina Gryffindor had noticed that he had left and had gone to find Salazar.

 _(she was one of three that even noticed he was missing)_

"Menino, what are you doing out here?" she asked as she sat down next to him.

"I was observing the night sky," he replied.

She nodded. "Yes, that can be very fascinating. I personally like Sagitário," she pointed to the constellation as she spoke. "The archer. It reminds me of my older brother."

 _(he hadn't known she had brothers)_

Salazar didn't know what to reply to that, so they simply walked in silence for a few minutes.

That was until a stray howl reached their ears. Both of them froze.

"Was that..." Salazar stuttered. "A….a werewolf."

Alexandrina shook her head, "It can't have been- They would have told us of something like that. It must have been a normal wolf."

Salazar shook his head. "A normal wolf sounds differently."

 _(one learned many things while living in the woods)_

She paled rapidly, because they were increasingly louder sounds—footsteps, snapping branched, and their like—which clearly meant the beast had smelled them.

"Run, menino, run!" She ordered him. "Get help from the others. I will try to hold it off."

"I can't leave you alone!" he argued.

"We can't let it get to the house. Think of the children!" Her eyes spoke clearly of her fear, but her tone didn't waver the slightest. "Just run quickly, menino."

So Salazar turned and sprinted back towards the house as fast as he could.

Once inside, he looked for Godric.

 _(no one else would listen to him)_

Luckily, it didn't take him long to find the knight and explain the situation in broken sentences.

The Sirs Walter and Godric ran outside and Salazar led them towards where he had come from, where Alexandrina still was.

 _(they were too late)_

By the time they arrived on the scene, Alexandrina was already dead.

They weren't able to do anything but stop the werewolf from eating the remains.

"I told you, Godric!" Sir Walter snapped. "That _boy_ is going to kill all of us! Just look at how he sacrificed your wife to save his own skin!"

"What? No! She told me to run!"

"Why were you outside during a fullmoon night in the first place," Sir Walter questioned. "Did you plan this?"

"That actually is a good question, Salazar," Godric said, turning to him. There were no words to describe the sheer amount of grief that resonated from the knight's expression.

"No, I didn't know! I swear! You have to believe me, Godric," Salazar begged through his own tears. "I wasn't aware of the werewolf! Why would I have gone outside if I were? I didn't mean for anyone to die or get hurt."

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 **Portugese (according to Google Translate)**

 **menino - boy**

 **Abra a porta, menino - open the door, boy**

 **Por favor, abra! Você vai morrer de fome! Por favor! Aberto! - Please, open! You're going to starve! Please! Open!**

 **Sagitário - Saggitarius**

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 **Please tell me what you think!**

 **~Marvelgeek42**


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